


Hot n Fresh Out the Kitchen

by Springsteen



Category: Raven Cycle - Maggie Stiefvater
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-29
Updated: 2015-12-29
Packaged: 2018-05-10 01:09:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,530
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5562931
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Springsteen/pseuds/Springsteen
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In the “extra comments” section, Noah reached across Ronan’s arms to type “spell ‘fuck’ with pepperoni.” Ronan grinned at him and added “send your cutest delivery boy.” Noah cackled with laughter.</p>
<p>(based on <a href="http://prsphn.tumblr.com/post/135639815743/au-where-ronan-orders-a-pizza-and-like-for-the">this</a> text post, set in a no-magic barely-there college au)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Hot n Fresh Out the Kitchen

**Author's Note:**

> I saw that text post and then I listened to a whole lot of edm and that's how this fic came to exist. title, naturally, from R. Kelly's "Ignition (Remix)".

There was not much better than obnoxious electronic music for blocking out everything in the world. Ronan lay on his back, arms draped carelessly at his sides and headphones beating loudly in his ears, shaking with the bass. He stared at the ceiling, eyes unfocused, and tried to let himself fall asleep. The headphones were yanked from his ears just as he was about to drift off. Ronan sat up abruptly.

“I’m hungry,” Noah said, kneeling next to Ronan’s bed. He rested his chin on one hand and held Ronan’s headphones in the other.

“What the fuck do you expect me to do about it,” Ronan snapped. 

“Pizza?” Noah asked hopefully. 

“Order it yourself,” Ronan said, but he had already grabbed his laptop and opened the web page for their favorite pizza place. Noah didn’t like to talk to people on the phone, which Ronan understood and respected. And Ronan was the only one in the apartment who owned a laptop. 

“Pepperoni,” Ronan asked, no inflection at all.

“And extra cheese,” Noah responded. He smiled brightly, reading over Ronan’s shoulder as he typed the order. In the “extra comments” section, Noah reached across Ronan’s arms to type “spell ‘fuck’ with pepperoni.” Ronan grinned at him and added “send your cutest delivery boy.” Noah cackled with laughter, curling over the laptop.

“Get up, you idiot,” Ronan said, nudging Noah’s shoulder. “I can’t order this shit with you laying on my computer.” Noah slithered back to the floor, still giggling.

“I’m so hungry,” Noah moaned, his face pressed into the side of Ronan’s mattress. 

“Well maybe you should learn to cook,” Ronan suggested.

“Good idea,” he said. “Then I could set the kitchen on fire and at least it wouldn’t be so cold in here all the time.” To prove his point, Noah pressed his freezing hands against Ronan’s bare arm. Ronan jerked his arm up and away, swearing.

“Wear some fucking gloves.” He stomped out of his room and into the living room of their tiny apartment, sprawling across the couch to wait for the pizza to show up.

Half an hour later, a knock on the door pulled Ronan from the couch. He’d paid for the pizza when he’d ordered it, but fumbled for his wallet for a tip. When he opened the apartment door, he froze. 

The first thing Ronan noticed were the freckles, dusted across the guy’s nose on the sun-darkened skin of his face. He smiled, eyes bright beneath a baseball cap bearing the restaurant’s logo. His hands, wrapped around two pizza boxes, were long-fingered and bony and perfect. “Two fuckin’ pepperoni pizzas,” he said, the barest brush of a southern accent in his words. Ronan’s eyes widen and he balled his hands into fists to stop himself from dragging the guy into a kiss. 

He misunderstood Ronan’s silence. “Shit, I’m sorry, they told me what your order asked and I thought it was funny, I didn’t mean to -- I mean, here’s your pizza.” He shoved the boxes at Ronan, who grabbed them when the edges bumped into his chest. “Have a nice day,” the guy said, quickly turning to leave. 

The door slammed without Ronan holding it open. Noah ran into the room, smiling. “Pizza!”

“Yeah,” Ronan said, dropping the boxes on the mess on the coffee table. As soon as he opened the box, Noah let out a delighted whoop. FUCK YOU had been written out in perfectly neat pepperoni letters. Ronan glares at the pizza as he takes a slice, pulling the words apart. He’d forgotten to tip the delivery guy.

*

Ronan didn’t have much to do during the summer. He wouldn’t take summer classes, even if it did mean he could graduate sooner, and he didn’t have a job. With Gansey visiting his parents, he spent a lot of time with Noah, finding new places for him to skate and Ronan to generally be a nuisance. Sometimes he went to parties at Kavinsky’s, when he was feeling particularly destructive. He’d even considered going back to the boxing gym, even if it meant he might see his brother. 

Lately, Ronan had a new distraction. He’d spent way too much time thinking about the pizza guy. He’d seen him for ninety seconds, but during those ninety seconds Ronan had done his best to memorise every detail of his face. Ronan would remember this as the summer he went completely insane.

“Pizza?” Ronan asked a few days later, dropping next to Noah on the couch.

“Sure,” Noah agreed, not looking away from whatever he’s watching on Ronan’s laptop. Ronan gently pried the computer away from Noah, rolling his eyes when he saw Noah had been watching a video of baby otters. Ronan made the order quickly, this time purposely ignoring the “special comments” section. Once he’s done, he gave the laptop back to Noah, shoved him over, and settled down next to him on the couch. He absolutely did not think about the delivery guy, about the veins he could still picture across the backs of his delicate hands or about the messy brown hair crushed beneath that stupid red baseball cap. Who knows if it would even be the same guy. Ronan would not let himself get his hopes up for nothing.

“You could’ve asked for the cute delivery boy again,” Noah said after they’d watched three more videos of baby animals. 

“Why would I have done that,” Ronan said, picking at the leather bands around his wrist.

“Because you practically swooned when he showed up last time,” Noah responded, “and you obviously want to see him again.” Ronan regretted their seating arrangement, with Noah squeezed between him and the back of the couch, because he couldn’t push Noah to the floor. Noah knew that and smiled teasingly. “He was very cute.” Ronan punched his arm, though not as hard as he could’ve. 

When he heard a knock on the door, Ronan stood up and tugged at the hem of his t shirt. This time, he would not be such a huge fucking embarrassment. Ronan opened the door. He looked down. There was no hot pizza delivery guy. Instead, there was a tiny girl, the spiky tips of her black hair barely reaching Ronan’s collarbone. She looked up at Ronan, eyes narrowed, and hummed thoughtfully.

“Two large pepperoni extra cheese,” she rattled off. Ronan pulled several bills out of his wallet and handed them to her, taking the pizzas. She looked down at the money. “Your order says you paid online. This is more than the pizzas cost.” She glared up at him. “This had better only be for the pizzas, because if you think you can pay me for anything else you are _so wrong_.”

Ronan snorted. “You can’t make a whole lot in tips if you talk to all the customers like that.”

Her mouth fell open. The name stitched onto her shirt said ‘Blue’ and Ronan wondered if it was some kind of joke. Maybe a nickname. “Not everyone is as much of an asshole as you are,” she snapped.

“Look,” Ronan said, glaring down at her as viciously as he could while holding two pizza boxes. “I got pizza from here the other day and I forgot to tip the delivery guy, so half of that is for him.”

Blue tucked the money into her pocket. “Why didn’t you just say that in the first place?” she asked. “Who was it?”

“He was tall,” Ronan said, realizing everyone was probably tall to this impossibly tiny girl. “Brown hair, freckles.” Ronan tried to think of other ways to describe him without saying ‘nice hands’ or ‘pretty eyes.’

“Oh, Adam,” Blue said slowly, deliberately drawing his name out. “Yeah, I’ll make sure he gets it.” She smiled smugly up at Ronan, who was sure to keep his face as blandly menacing as usual. “Have a nice day,” she said, turning to leave. “Oh,” she added, “Adam’s working the night shift the next two weekends. Just in case you don’t have enough pizza there.” She waved at him and walked down the hall.

“God _damnit_ ,” Ronan cursed, handing the food to Noah. 

“She sounded nice,” he said through a mouthful of pizza.

“If you like tiny spitfires,” Ronan agreed. “She was rude.”

“Reminds me of someone else I know,” Noah said, as pointedly as he could around the pizza crust.

*

The sharp slant of sunlight woke Ronan up earlier than he would’ve liked. He dragged himself out to the kitchen and took the orange juice from the fridge, drinking straight from the carton.

“You know we have glasses,” Noah said from the living room. “And a dishwasher. Barely any effort required.”

Ronan grimaced. “You sound like Gansey.”

Noah shrugged. His skateboard was on its side on the floor, the surrounding area littered with wheels and bearings. “Somebody should be the responsible one.” Ronan snorted. “Probably.” He twisted the socket wrench he was holding. “I was thinking about going over to that abandoned development later,” Noah continued. “Empty in-ground pools. Half-built houses.”

“Sounds like a great place to get tetanus,” Ronan said. “Let’s go.” He went back to his room to pull on a pair of jeans and came back to find Noah still sitting on the floor, replacing the wheels on his board. Ronan sat next to him and sent the old wheels careening across the floor, watching them skid and bounce into the walls and furniture. 

Ronan drove them across town, awful music turned up too loud as he ignored speed limits and stop signs. The surroundings changed from sleepy summertime college town to run-down strip malls and half-empty subdivisions. He followed Noah’s directions to a quiet cul-de-sac in a partially cleared stretch of land. A few houses stood completed but empty, a few others little more than foundations and basements. 

Grinning, they burst from the car and ran around to the back of the houses, where there was indeed an empty swimming pool sunken into the ground. A few other people hung around, glancing up as Ronan and Noah approached. Noah called out a greeting and dove in, smoothly riding down the scuffed, curved cement sides. They spent the afternoon there, creeping through the empty houses and skating. Ronan was enthusiastic but unskilled -- by the time they left, he had a series of scrapes down his arms from when he’d fallen. 

On the way back to their apartment, Ronan rolled down the windows to let the bass pour out, revving the engine up to redline between each gear shift. He took the long way back just to prolong the feeling, throwing the car around corners and waiting until the last second to hit the brakes as Noah leaned his head out the open window and yelled into the nightfall. 

They stumbled up the stairs and back into their apartment. Noah grabbed Ronan’s laptop and tapped at the keys, closing it a few minutes later. “Pizza,” he said decisively. “And a special request.” Dropping onto the couch, Ronan glared at Noah, who smirked back at him. “I know you’re excited.”

“Shut up,” Ronan said, slipping his headphones into his ears and trying to convince himself his heart was pounding because of leftover adrenalin from the afternoon, and not because he was probably, maybe going to see Adam again. Adam, whom he’d only seen once before, whose name he’d learned from someone else. 

Noah poked Ronan in the side with a pencil until he paused the music and pulled the headphones out of his ears. He pointed emphatically at the door, where Ronan could now hear someone knocking. A manic smile spread across Noah’s face as he gave Ronan an enthusiastic thumbs up and retreated to the kitchen. Ronan went to answer the door and told himself not to be disappointed if it was Blue again.

It wasn’t.

Adam was as breathtaking as the first time Ronan had seen him, even in a garish polo shirt where Ronan now noticed his name stitched across it, right over his heart.Ronan smiled, a rare smile without menace or sharp edges. “Hey,” he said, actually remembering to give Adam a tip as he took the pizza.

“Hi,” Adam responded. They stood awkwardly, Ronan holding the pizzas and Adam still in the open doorway. “Blue gave me, um… You didn’t have to do that - some people don’t, actually…” Adam dragged a hand down the side of his face, exhaling heavily. “Thank you.”

“Some people are really shitty if they don’t tip you,” Ronan said. 

“Yeah,” Adam agreed, “It’s not an ideal job, but it’s also not forever. It’s fine for now.” Half his mouth hitched up in a smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes. 

“Well, I’m glad you’re fine with it, for now,” Ronan said. Adam looked at him and his expression changed, soft but still considering. Something in Ronan’s chest loosened and he felt like he was falling, like he had earlier that day when he’d tried to skate down the side of the pool. 

“Yeah?” Adam asked, his accent draw out heavier over the word. “I’m Adam.”

“Ronan,” he said, shifting the pizza boxes so he could offer his hand. Both of their hands were greasy, Adam’s hand warm and calloused and their contact entirely too brief. Ronan wanted to hold on to his hand and never let go. 

“Nice to meet you, Ronan,” Adam said. The way Adam said his name made it sound entirely foreign, almost musical. He thought he liked the sound of it as much as the sound of the BMW’s engine, but he’d have to hear it again to be sure. Adam nodded and took a step back, his smile dropping back into something more brittle, more professional. “Enjoy your pizza.”

He walked away before Ronan could force another sentence past his lips. 

Noah leaned against the kitchen doorway, obviously listening to the entire exchange. “That went way better than the first time,” he said, humming some stupid punk song as he dragged two slices out of the box. “Maybe next time you should ask him to stay.”

Ronan huffed a laugh. “Great idea. ‘I know it’s the middle of your shift, but maybe instead of getting paid you should stay here with me’.”

Somehow, Noah managed to look serious even with a string of cheese hanging from the corner of his mouth. “Okay you’re right. That’s a terrible idea.” He waited for Ronan to start eating a slice before he said, “You should probably just ask him out.” Ronan didn’t choke on his pizza, but he did chase Noah around the apartment, trying to drag his greasy hands across his face and through his hair as Noah shouted the lyrics to “That’s Amore.”

*

When Gansey came back the following weekend, he found Noah and Ronan in the parking lot building a skate ramp out of old packing pallets. “Perfect,” Ronan said, watching Gansey take his bags from the trunk of his garishly orange vintage Camaro. “Noah was wondering if he could kickflip over a car. Now we have one for him to practice on.”

“Very funny,” Gansey said, watching Noah very carefully hammer a nail into the side of his ramp. “Maybe you should practice on some hotwheels.”

“Don’t insult Noah like that,” Ronan said, following the curve of the ramp through the air with his arm. 

“I talked him out of building a giant skateboard out of this,” Noah said, knocking his knuckles against the ramp.

“But not out of dragging the skateboard behind the car,” Ronan said with a wicked grin. 

“You’ve already done that,” Gansey said, taking his bags inside.

“Not this summer,” Ronan pointed out as he and Noah followed Gansey inside, the skate ramp temporarily abandoned. 

“Then I’m guessing there haven’t been any trips to the hospital while I was gone,” Gansey said, carefully dropping his bags just inside his bedroom door. “Do you mind if we order pizza for dinner? I’ve missed Nino’s.” Noah cackled and, much to his embarrassment, Ronan felt a blush spread across his face. “I’ve missed something else,” Gansey said slowly. 

“Yes, let’s order Nino’s,” Noah said joyfully. “And be sure to ask for special delivery.”

“Special delivery,” Gansey repeated, smiling bemusedly as he took his phone out of his pocket. Gansey, unlike Noah and Ronan, had absolutely nothing against using the telephone.

“Just order the fucking pizza,” Ronan snarled, slamming the door to his room. He threw himself onto the bed and pressed his face into the pillow and hoped, trying to replay the sound of Adam saying his name over and over. He held his hands in front of his face and pictured Adam’s instead, his tanned, slender fingers in the gaps between Ronan’s. 

Someone tapped insistently on Ronan’s door. He rolled off the bed and walked out of his room just in time to hear Gansey open the apartment door.

“Oh,” he heard Adam say. Noah stood next to Ronan in the tiny hallway, trying to push Ronan towards the door. Ronan leaned back against Noah, shaking his head violently. “Two large extra cheese and pepperoni,” Adam said, his voice flatly calm. Ronan pressed his palms against his thighs, hands shaking. A few moments later, the door closed. Without Noah pushing against his back, Ronan stumbled. 

“Ronan,” Gansey said amusedly. He walked into the kitchen to see Noah hiding his face in his hands, smothering laughter. “I think this is for you.” He gave Ronan a pizza box, a string of numbers scrawled across the top. He opened it to see someone had spelled out CALL ME in pepperoni. He didn’t even bother trying to keep the stupid smile off his face. Taking the pizza with him, he went straight back to his room, kicking the door shut behind him. He dug through desk drawers until he found the one where he’d thrown his cell phone a few days ago. He ignored the eight missed calls from his brother and the text Gansey had sent that morning, telling him he was driving back, and typed in the number written in grease-stained marker across the lid.

His thumb hovered over the ‘call’ button, nerves spiking in his gut. Maybe it was just the shop’s phone number. Maybe Adam hadn’t even written it, and it wasn’t meant for Ronan. Maybe Adam still thought Ronan was a shitty person who didn’t tip people. He took out a slice of pizza, pulling apart the curve of the ‘c’. Setting his phone back down on his desk, he ate two slices of pizza, staring at the numbers on the screen until it went dark. He shoved the box lid down and chewed on the leather bands around his wrist, still staring at his phone. 

“Have you called him yet?” Noah yelled through the door.

“Shut the fuck up,” he snapped, grabbing his car keys from the nightstand and shoving his arms into his jacket. He threw open the door and glared at Noah, who leaned against the wall. “Shut up,” he said again, slamming open the front door and thundering down the stairs to his car. He sat in the driver’s seat with the key in the ignition, but didn’t start the car. Free hand wrapped tightly around the steering wheel, he tapped the ‘call’ button before he could think of any more excuses. 

The phone rang. Ronan waited, barely breathing. He probably wouldn’t answer. This was probably a joke. 

“Hello?” Adam said.Ronan’s hand slid off the steering wheel as he rested his forehead there instead. “Hello?” Adam repeated.

“Adam,” Ronan said. He didn’t know what else to say.

“Ronan,” Adam said brightly. “I didn’t know if you’d call.”

“The pizza told me to,” he said, immediately wincing. He was such a fucking idiot.

Adam laughed. “Yeah, Blue is never gonna let me live that down,” he said. 

“Don’t worry, my friends won’t, either,” said Ronan. There was silence and Ronan couldn’t stop thinking about how much he hated phone calls and how much he really didn’t mind when it was Adam on the other end of the line. 

“Listen,” Adam said, “my shift is over in ten minutes. Can I meet you somewhere?”

Ronan switched the phone to his left hand so he could rest his right on the key still in the ignition, wiggling it without actually starting the car. “The park over on Dogwood,” Ronan said. It wasn’t very far from his apartment, but he also knew it was right around the corner from Nino’s. It seemed presumptuous to ask Adam back to his apartment, and there was no fucking way he wanted Noah or Gansey around for this. He wanted to keep Adam to himself, at least for now. Maybe in the future there would be a space for Adam in their little group, but right now he was still too new and too precious for Ronan to risk. 

“I can be there,” Adam said. It sounded like he was smiling. “I’ll see you soon?” he added hopefully. 

“Obviously,” Ronan scoffed. 

“Good,” Adam shot back. Ronan grinned. For a second he’d been worried that he’d come across too harshly, that Adam would realize he was rude and contemptuous and distant. But then, that’s who Ronan was, or at least how he presented himself, and that wasn’t something he could easily change. It wasn’t something he _wanted_ to change, either. His phone beeped at him, and Ronan realized Adam had hung up on him. He dropped the phone on the passenger seat and started the BMW. There were too many cars in the parking lot for him to do celebratory donuts. He considered trying anyways before realizing that Gansey or Noah would probably notice, and he didn’t want to give them anything else to mock him about. 

He drove out of the parking lot and towards the park, leaving the radio quiet for once. It didn’t take him long to get to the park, quiet and empty in the dark. Adam wasn’t there yet, but Ronan shut off the engine and got out of the car anyway. He walked across the dry grass, scuffing his boots through the dirt and pulling himself up on top of the monkey bars. He drummed his fingers against the metal, still warm from sitting in the sun all day, and chipped at the flaking paint. There was a sizable bare spot on the top bar by the time Ronan heard footsteps. He watched Adam walk across the grass and stop below the monkey bars, draping his hands over the top bar just inches from Ronan’s leg.

“Hey,” Adam said, looking up at him. Ronan swung his legs over the edge and jumped down, landing closer to Adam than he’d expected. Neither of them moved. “Can I ask you something?” 

“Just did,” Ronan replied, shoving his hands into his pockets. Adam pushed his shoulder, Ronan rocking back on his heels. Adam’s fingers trailed down Ronan’s chest as he pulled away, slipping along his leather jacket. Ronan wished he’d left it in the car, leaving less between Adam’s hands and his body.

“Do you guys really eat that much pizza all the time?” 

Ronan blinked at him. “I didn’t come out here to get judged by a loser like you.” Adam ducked around him and climbed onto the carousel, sitting down in the middle. Ronan’s hands hung at his sides, clenching them into fists before he turned around and followed Adam. He grabbed one of the bars and started running in a circle, jumping on once his feet started slipping over the dirt. Adam had laid down when Ronan started running, and now Ronan sprawled next to him, watching the stars and streetlights whirl in blurred circles overhead.Ronan turned his head to look at Adam, face still turned up to the sky. “I liked having an excuse to see you,” Ronan said quietly. “But we do eat a shitton of pizza.”

The carousel slowed, losing momentum, but neither of them moved to spin it again. Adam turned to face Ronan. “I’m glad you eat an unhealthy amount of pizza,” he said, moving closer. He traced his fingertips along Ronan’s cheekbone. Ronan wrapped his hand around the delicate bones of Adam’s wrist, thumb gently rubbing across the soft skin of his inner wrist. Adam pressed closer still, dragging his fingers down Ronan’s cheek and over his lips, Ronan’s hand still anchored around Adam’s wrist. Ronan kept himself still, watching Adam study him. Ronan’s gaze dropped to Adam’s lips, and just like that, Adam dropped his hand to Ronan’s neck and kissed him. 

Adam’s lips were dry but soft against his, tentative brushes that Ronan held on to, sliding his free hand up into Adam’s hair to crush them closer together. Adam licked across Ronan’s lip and Ronan opened his mouth, catching Adam’s lip between his own. Adam licked into his mouth only to break away a second later, laughing softly. Ronan tried to glare at him but they were so close he went cross-eyed. 

“You taste like pizza,” Adam explained, still laughing. 

Ronan shoved at Adam’s shoulder. “You smell like pizza,” he said, dragging his hands down the cheap fabric of Adam’s work polo. His hands found the hem of the shirt and he pulled it upwards. “Bet we can fix that, though,” he added with a grin. 

Adam pulled him into another kiss, rolling himself on top of Ronan and mumbling a curse against Ronan’s lips when he kicked one of the bars on the carousel. Ronan reached for the edge of Adam’s shirt again but Adam stopped him, trapping his hands. 

“Maybe we shouldn’t do this in a public park,” he said. 

Ronan had never had any qualms about breaking the law, though his record was a long series of speeding tickets and no history of public indecency. “Maybe you’re right,” Ronan said, leaning up to kiss him again. Ronan’s hands were still caught tight in Adam’s, pressed between their bodies. 

“Ronan,” Adam sighed. Ronan closed his eyes, memorizing the sound, undoubtedly better than anything he’d ever heard. “We should do this again.”

“Make out in a playground at night?” Adam punched him, his fist resting on Ronan’s chest, a spot of warmth over his sternum. Ronan grinned viciously. “Are you asking me on a date, Adam?”

He smiled back, bright as the crescent moon over his shoulder. “Yeah, I am.”

“Well then,” Ronan said, sitting up and knocking Adam back on his knees. “I guess I’ll say yes.” 

Ronan was about to kiss the smile off Adam’s face when he said, “As long as it has nothing to do with pizza.” He leaned in and pressed his lips to Ronan’s, kissing him until he stopped laughing, until Ronan’s head was spinning and the only feeling he wanted to know was Adam’s hand on his chest, his arm around Adam’s waist, their lips pressed together. He didn’t care what Adam wanted to do or how many stupid pizzas he would have to order to see Adam every day. All he wanted to do was keep Adam in his arms and, fortunately for Ronan, Adam seemed quite content to stay there.

**Author's Note:**

> thanks for reading! I'm on [tumblr](http://springsteen.tumblr.com) if you wanna say hi.


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